Burning Tears: Destined Death
by Niyin
Summary: Destiny is always right. But what if it foretells your death? How far will Merlin go to help Arthur become Albion's Once and Future King? And how will he decide when it becomes clear that one must die? Starts as a kind of alternative ending for S4E3.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone!  
>I know, I'm currently writing two other stories, but I had the idea for this a few weeks ago and just couldn't resist. In fact, I have it mostly planned out and the end written for quite a while, so I decided to write the beginning... :D yes, I'm a little crazy.<br>Well, however, this story is gonna be split in two stories- the first called 'Destined Death' and the second 'One more Turn', like in a small series both have the first name 'Burning Tears'. I hope you understand what I mean :). This starts as a kind of alternative ending for S4E3, so there are spoilers until then...  
>I also only post the prologue for now, which is quite short. Just wanted to know what you think of it (PLEASE REVIEW! xD).<br>So, that should be everything (though I always forget to say something :D).**

**Warning: Before anyone nags me because I haven't said anything, this prologue is mainly made out of someone's last thought before he dies... don't know, just had the feeling I should warn you :). Though there won't be any character's death in 'Destined Death' (well, apart from those in S4E3- and as I know me various almost-deaths)...  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: Merlin has never, doesn't and will never belong to me... although, well, hope dies last :).**

**Burning Tears  
><strong>

**~Destined Death~**

_Why must we die. life is a lie. There is no choice  
>Death is coming<br>For everyone. Under the sun. Slice life begun  
>Death's been growing<br>Inside of us. So ominous. Waiting to crush  
>The life in us<br>Struggle of life seems a waste of time  
>Death will soon be mine<br>Take my life away_

_Life has been past by my eyes_

_No matter what you accomplish. It means nothing  
>When you are dead<br>Meaning of life does not exsist. Coincidence  
>That we are here<br>Death is the end of everything. No afterlife  
>Don't kid yourself<br>Eventually. Dead you will be for eternity  
>Destined to be dead<em>

_Destined to be dead by 8 Foot Sativa  
><em>

**Prologue**

The blood soaked his clothing and dropped on the ground, turning the white snow deadly red.  
>At first he had tried to stop his wound from bleeding, but by now he had long given up to the numbness and tiredness. Why fight a battle that was already lost?<p>

His breath escaped in a small sigh as he watched the blood drop on, turning his pale skin as white as the snow he lay on. His black hair, grown longer in the years abroad, formed an almost comical contrast to the innocent white around him.

Former innocent, given that now it was changed into an angry red. He hadn't known one could bleed so much.  
>The blood was invisible on his slightly to big black shirt and trousers, though the illusion of invincibility was destroyed by their wet and sticky consistence.<p>

_Red, black and white. The magical colours._

He couldn't even feel the pain anymore, it had died away what seemed like hours ago, making way to a warm numbness.

He stared up at the grey sky, watching the snow slide down silently to cover the last evidence of the fight. A flake landed on his forehead and melted slowly into a drop running across his face. More came, and it took a few moments for him to realize they were tears. How could one cry without feeling anything?  
>Another small sigh came over his lips.<p>

_Alone again. At least I will die as myself._

He had lost the charm, or taken it off- he couldn't recall anymore, it didn't matter. Nothing really did.  
>In fact, he felt better than in a long time. Despite the snow he was warm, numb, relaxed. In peace. He knew this wasn't a good sign at all, the numbness, the warmth and tiredness. Forebodes of death. But this too wasn't important. After his experience, death held no fear; not anymore.<p>

The thought hit something in him and he turned his head painfully slowly to the large grey stone rising from the snow next to him. It was a masterpiece, formed and ground until the grey shone silvery. Must have cost a fortune, strange, after all that had happened.  
>Letters were chiseled in its smooth surface. His mind only formed the words with great difficulty.<p>

'To Merlin of Camelot, the noblest under all noble.'

Gratitude to a known sorcerer. Strange to be dying on your own grave.

And he wasn't even a nobleman.  
>A small smile played across his lips, accompanied by a pang of guilt, hurt, regret and loss,<p>

He had tried so hard. Tried to keep his secret, to be a friend, advisor and guard at once. Tried to forget, to believe Merlin of Camelot dead forever. Tried to start a new life, and then not be touched by his return.  
>He had tried to protect Arthur, over and over again.<p>

And had failed in each and every of those tasks.  
>He had left Arthur down.<br>The smile became sadder, hopeless, a silent apologize for all the events in the past.

What would they think when they found his body? He couldn't really imagine.  
>Or maybe they wouldn't find him at all.<p>

His breath escaped one last time, but no air came back in. It was over.  
>The smile didn't vanish as his vision blackened, memories flashing before his eyes.<p>

_When you die you see your life pass before your eyes, they say._

When had it all started?  
>Was it when Uther had died? At his arrival in Camelot or employment as Arthur's manservant?<br>When he was born?  
>Or even much much earlier, when the prophecy had been made?<p>

No, he decided, it had all begun a few weeks before Uther's death, when the dragon finally told him the whole prophecy.

**So, that's it :). I know, pretty short, but it's just a prologue... well, what do you think? Worth posting?  
>If you ever want to know what happened that Merlin got in this position, please REVIEW! (hm, that's kind of blackmail... whatever... :D your decision. Just know that reviews make me happy. So, please :)).<strong>


	2. Chapter 1: The Prophecy

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone :)  
>Well, everyone seemed to like it, so I decided to put the first real chapter on... :D I think it's a bot boring at the beginning, but hopefully that'll get better at the end. It's also pretty important for the story :D.<br>Oh, and Merlin might seem OOC, but remember him when he fought Nimueh or his father was killed. That's what I was going for ;). Plus, I couldn't read this over yet, so ther might still be a few mistakes.  
>Thanks to all who alerted, favourited and especially to those who reviewed :D! You're great :).<br>Now, enjoy and please R&R :D!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin. And I think I borrowed a line from Harry Potter- not intentionally. But I do own my story, at least :).  
><strong>

**Chapter 1: The Prophecy**

_You Raise_  
><em> Like A Bird<em>  
><em> Above The Clouds<em>  
><em> Above The Fear<em>

_ Above The World_  
><em> Of "wild Dogs"<em>  
><em> To Escape<em>  
><em> Like A Wolf<em>

_ Dense Fogs_  
><em> Of Humans' Lie<em>  
><em> Your Faith<em>  
><em> Is Your Treasure<em>

_ Can't Find Yourself_  
><em> Looking For A Day,<em>  
><em> Fighting.<em>  
><em> You Can Pay<em>

_You're Finding Own Way  
>You're Dreaming About The End<em>

_Day's Bright,  
>Golden Glare,<br>Our Fate  
>Is Living In Us<em>

Raising  
>Like A Bird<br>Fighting  
>You Can Fall<p>

_Alone - Taking Your Prize  
>Alone - When The End Will Come<em>

Destiny by Ceti 

He could remember the scene to the last detail.

Himself, young, innocent back then, standing before Killgharrah in their meeting clearing, that time to find a cure to the King's mental affliction. Of course there was none. But he had learned so much more instead.

"You, young warlock, hold the destiny of these lands. It is you, and you alone, who can place the rightful King on his throne" the dragon mused in his deep voice. Merlin only groaned at the new riddles.

"You think I should let Uther die."  
>It wasn't a question. "But what if it's too early? How will I know when Arthur is ready? You can't just press him on the throne, or this will never end."<p>

His greatest fear. Arthur reigning like his father, in hatred of magic that had killed his parents and forced him to his title, not truly _understanding_. Oh, how often had he woken to exactly this nightmare; an unforgiving Arthur betraying him, executing him for what he couldn't change.

The Great Dragon chuckled softly, obviously either amused or oblivious to his distress. It only frustrated Merlin further.

"Don't worry, Camelot will not miss a leader for much longer. The prophecy is near to being completed. It only efforts one last step."

Merlin's head snapped up as he stared incredulously at the beast before him.

"The prophecy? What do I have to do?"

Kilgharrah only gazed at him through narrowed eyes, making the warlock throw his hands up in frustration. "You can't just say there is only one last step, and then not tell me what to do!"

The Great Dragon completely ignored his anger, so Merlin tried again, this time more reasonable. "Everyone expects me to lead Arthur, show him the beauty of magic, but how can I do this with all the magical attacks? How can I make him trust me by lying?  
>He gives magic the fault of corrupting Morgana and through this destroying Uther, which isn't even wrong. How can I possibly make him understand?"<br>He breathed in deep, trying to calm himself, to express his fears.  
>"Everyone relies on me, but I don't know what to do. What if I disappoint them all? Please, you <em>have <em> to tell me!"

Kilgharrah slowly shook his head and gave him a considerably small, toothy grin.  
>"So many questions for such a little being."<p>

Merlin stared back defiantly, but the corners of his mouth twitched in a sad smile.  
>"I have grown since then."<p>

The Great Dragon nodded in agreement. "You have indeed." He paused. "Maybe the time has come for you to know the whole prophecy."

_Even dragons make mistakes_, this he knew now. Back then, Merlin had just frowned in confusion. Not understanding.  
>How could his trusting self see the betrayal?<p>

"Wait... 'the whole prophecy'? I keep Arthur safe, put him on the throne, he allows magic back, happy ever-after. What's more to it?"

Kilgarrah examined him, obviously fighting an internal battle. Finally he came to a decision and, unfolding his wings, turned the head away from Merlin's waiting gaze. "You are not ready to know, I was mislead. Don't worry, young warlock, for soon the time will come and then you will understand everything."

Merlin ignored the almost sad tone and looked away too, closing his eyes and counting silently to ten in an attempt to calm his magic from acting up at the wave of sudden hot anger. When he answered, his voice was dangerously low but reverberated with barely suppressed power. "I am the last Dragonlord, and you will tell me. Now."

Killgharrah froze unbelieving, already on his hid legs. Flames licked at his mouth as he roared in anger.  
>"How dare you misuse your power like that!"<p>

Merlin didn't back away from the beast towering above him, but hold Killgharrah's gaze, frustration replacing his fear.

"How can I do what?" he asked, his voice cold and hard as ice. "Want to know my future? To hear the words I gave my life for? Yes how _dare _I. How dare I hate being lyed to by everyone. Being forced to live a life I didn't choose. 'Young warlock, do this, do that, the whole Albion relies on you' but tell me something? Never! Why, you like you riddles way too much. Only 'Oh, and don't forget giving your life for Arthur, alright?'" He stopped, breathing heavily.

_Freya, her eyes shining in the light of the flowing candles. "We could run away."_

_Again her eyes were shining, though this time with tears as he showed her the lake. Just before she died in his arms. "No one can change destiny."_

"This is _my_ life! I have a right to know. So, tell me!"

Killgharrah recoiled at his words, spoken with such venom and power they seemed to vibrate in the air.

"It is not the ti-"

"I don't care!" Merlin roared, tears of fury springing in his eyes. "I bloody don't care! Just, tell me."

With a thump the dragon's heavy paws landed on the grass again, his eyes blank like at their first meeting on this place, when he had attacked Camelot. "Grown you may have, but not in your wisdom. I thought you had learnt better from your experiences with the Christal Cave." He paused, giving Merlin a last chance to pull back, and for a moment the warlock saw Morgana again, _the shiny knife raised high over her head, red dripping from fingertips as he screamed, before fire swallowed everything... _

But the image couldn't stay long against the loving eyes of Freya, his father's proud smile, Will's fear in his last moments,... they all had died because of destiny, because of _him_. He would finish this for once and all, whatever it might take. There couldn't be any more deaths. He couldn't take it.

So Merlin only gazed back expactantly until Killgharrah nodded, sad acceptance shining in his eyes.

"So, listen to the prophecy, if you think you must. But then go and never return to me, for I warned you."

Again he paused, grievely. _"You did what you felt was right, and that shows great courage." _

The words reveberated through the minds of both of them, but still Merlin didn't pull back.

"This is the words made hundreds of years ago to explain the foundation of Albion:

When the times are the darkest  
>And everything seems lost<br>A man shall walk the earth  
>Like no other before him.<br>He shall be called Emrys  
>And it is he who holds the power of the universe<br>And the lands tremble at his feet  
>For he is magic<br>And magic is him.

Only with his aid  
>The Once and Future King will surpass all dangers<br>To rise in his legacy  
>And unite the lands of Albion<br>So magic will return  
>To restore an eternal peace.<p>

Or the King is destroyed  
>And falls with his kingdom<br>Kneeling at the fury of Emrys  
>Who reigns over the lands<br>With magic and sword.

But beware  
>For however Emrys decides<br>The price shall not be an easy one  
>And a life must be taken<br>To reforge the balance of the world.

To destory the hope of Albion  
>And let the earth shake at his feet<br>Emrys has to kill the one he protected  
>And the Once and Future King will die.<p>

But to create the unite of lands  
>Emrys himself will fall<br>At the hands of the one he trusts most  
>And his death will herald everlasting peace."<p>

After Killgharrah had finished, a deep silence covered the clearing, as if the world itself had hold its breath. Suddenly Merlin felt all strength leaving him, swaying and almost falling on the dark grass.

"You knew."

His voice matched his mind, toneless and blank, all feelings lost to a great cold numbness. His head hung down, shoulders slumped under a deadly weigh.

_Kill the one he protected... Emrys himself will fall at the hands of the one he trusted..._

Arthur's smile. _"We could have been friends."_

Tears flooded his eyes and this time Merlin couldn't hold them back. A single drop fell down his cheek as he lifted his head to stare at Killgharrah. "You knew."

The dragon simply bowed his head in agreement. Slowly the emptiness was replaced with helpless disbelieve.

"All the time, I thought you were my friend. You betrayed me. You used me, like everyone else." He shook his head, hysterical laugher walling up inside him. "All those sorcerers who wanted me to join them, to use me as a weapon. A tool. And you are no different. How could I be so naiv, to think we were friends?"

Killgharrah gazed at him, his expession unreadable. "We are more than friends, young warlock. We are kin. We-"

"Stop!" Merlin suddenly interrupted him, fury welling up like he had only twice felt in life, once when Nimueh had tried to kill his last family and again when his father had died. The light blue-pink of the evening sky suddenly turned dangerously black as heavy clouds were drawn by his magic, acting alone in reaction to his anger. Merlin didn't stop it as darkness covered Camelot, sending people and animals running to seek shelter from the coming storm. "Go."

Merlin's voice was surprising quiet, a cold warning, before the control would completely leave him.

"Merlin-"

"Go!" the young warlock roared, his voice accompanied by a stroke of thunder. The world seemed to scream and shake at his sudden fury, the sky flashing bloody red for a moment before it returned to its black-green.

Without further invitation the Great Dragon spread his wings and flew into the by lightnings torn sky, leaving Merlin alone in the eye of the storm.

The young warlock stood unmoving, still as a statue and just as cold, as the rain soaked his clothing and lightnings and thunder raged all around him, griving for himself.

There was a flash of light, and a tree next to him blazed with fire, the flames dancing angrily red and orange against the pouring rain. Merlin didn't move away as the burning heat reached him, turning is skin the colour of fresh blood. It was powerless against the ice inside him. A mere spark, burning the outside but leaving his mind frozen with cold.

_None can live while the other survives._

It wasn't a decision he had to think before making, yet at the same time it was the hardest in the world.

"_I'm happy to be your servant, to the day I die."_

There was no way he would kill Arthur. He simply couldn't.

Even if this meant that he would die at his friend's hand.

"_I willingly give my life for Arthur's. His life is worth a hundred of mine."_

The rain ran down his face, mingling with salty tears.

His decision was made.

**That's it, so what do you think? Please Review :D.  
><strong>

**Review Responses:**

**Clairepenndragon: **Wow, you're really one of my best reviewers. Thanks a lot :D!  
>Since I write crazy stories, maybe some of your guesses are right? ;D Hope you liked it so far...<br>And well, since Merlin's dying in the prologue, and with this chapter you know he (or Arthur) _has _to die... yeah, I'd count it as whump ^^.

**And now, I haven't done anything for my blackmailing carreer in weeks... so, review or you'll _never _get the next chapter! **

**... little joke ;). But please review anyway :D.**


	3. Chapter 2: The Prat and the Idiot

**Author's Note:**

**Hi :)  
>So, here comes the next chapter (why do I always state the obvious xD?). Not much action here, little bit relaxing after that scary prophecy, but you get a bit of ArthurMerlin and Arthur's view on magic. This chapter is a bit short too, but well... this or you would have to wait for another _long_ time, so I decided to post ;D.  
>In Arthur's talk, there's one reference to something another character once said to Merlin, don't think you find it, but try if you want...<br>Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers, as to those who alerted or favourited! :D  
>Enjoy and please R&amp;R :)<strong>

**Disclaimer: Sadly, Merlin doesn't belong to me... yet... xD Lets see how much I achieve in blackmailing carreer ;D.  
><strong>

**Chapter 2: The Prat and the Idiot**

_In any other world_  
><em>You could tell the difference<em>  
><em>And let it all unfurl<em>  
><em>Into broken remnants.<em>  
><em>Smile, like you mean it<em>  
><em>And let yourself let go.<em>

_Any other world by Mika  
><em>

Something was different this morning.

Prince Arthur Pendragon frowned at his reports, the words dancing and mingling before his eyes until they were nothing more than gibberish. Which they were anyway at least in his eyes, with all their 'my Lord' and 'Sire' and empty promises of loyalty. Just another few bootlickers, trying to ensnare and blind him with their words, to try his ability as a leader and use him.

His father never had to fight for their acceptance like this. No one would have dared to annoy _him_. Uther was a born leader and King, his every word and action radiating power.  
>That was, until Morgana's betrayal.<p>

Arthur glared at the reports as if they were the key to his misery- which, of course, they weren't. It wasn't the fault of those arrogant nobles. Neither of him, or his father, or Camelot, the Prince told himself. _Magic _had corrupted Morgana turned her from a loving lady into an evil witch. His sister.  
>Another point, almost as hard to accept as the former.<p>

_Magic. It's all magic's fault._

And because of this, Arthur hated it with hot fury.  
>There had been times, in the past, when he had doubted his father's words. It was hard to believe that there could exist something purely evil. And once magic had even saved his life- that day in the cave where he had sought the Morteaus flower, when suddenly an orb of light had appeared to lead him out. Strangely, the unknown sorcerer had never come to take credit for his actions.<p>

_Maybe it was the blond witch, Morgause, trying to turn me against my father and lure me into false believes. Yes, it was her for sure._

There was still something wrong with this explanation, but Arthur ignored the uncomfortable feeling. Magic had killed his mother, taken away Morgana and nearly destroyed Camelot, killing hundreds of people in the progress. In some way it had also killed the King, leaving him as a wreck of his former self. Magic _must_ be evil.  
>It had destroyed Arthur's life, forced him to become the unofficial King far too soon. He wasn't ready, and his people would suffer for this.<p>

Arthur sighed and rubbed his bleary eyes. It wasn't even midday yet, and already he felt like falling asleep any moment. The Prince didn't sleep well since they had reclaimed Camelot- or rather, since Morgana had shown her true colours and conquered it- and the storm last night hadn't helped either. It sounded more like the world was being destroyed than a simple storm, leaving various damage all over Camelot.

Sighing again, Arthur closed his eyes and sank back into the chair, listening to the soft shuffling around him.  
>There it was again. Something <em>definitely<em> was wrong.  
>The Prince's eyes snapped open to stare at his servant bustling around busily.<p>

"_Mer_lin! What are you doing?"

Merlin stopped, a bucket with dirty water in one hand the other hidden behind his back, and gave Athur a puzzled look.

"Just like you said. I have ordered your clothes and cleaned the stables, now I'm cleaning your room, before I'll get the lunch, polish your armor, sharpen your sw-"

"I can see what you're doing!" Athur interrupted him annoyed. "I just wanted to know what you are _doing_."

Merlin furrowed his brows and gave his master a strangely doubting look. "What I am _doing_, Sire?"

Arthur nodded almost enthusiastically. "That's it!" he exclaimed, jumping up and pacing through his chambers. Merlin only frowned on, clearly not sharing the enthusiasm. "... right."

_How can one put so much sarcasm in such a small word?_

The Prince stopped right before Merlin and gazed at the servant, who looked way uncomfortably. "_Mer_lin, look at me!"

Reluctantly, the boy obeyed, and Arthur almost startled as he _really_ examined Merlin, his suspicions all confirmed.

The usually pale skin had taken a deadly white, only broken by deep black circles under his eyes and a trail of red above them, like he had cried recently. His face was thinner than ever, the bones standing out sharp and clothes dangling around the whole meager frame, as if Merlin had lost more weight overnight than others in _weeks_ without food. But the worst were the eyes.

They reminded so much of Uther's that Arthur nearly flinched back, all life gone to leave them hollow and dead. Merlin tried his trademark grin, but without the twinkling eyes it looked lost, false.

The Prince frowned. Yesterday, Merlin had still been the cheerful idiot, thus he knew for sure. Of course, he hadn't been all that happy, but it was normal after Morgana had betrayed them and the loyal idiot had almost died from the Dorocha.

So, when exactly had Merlin changed into a walking skeleton?  
>A <em>quietly<em> walking skeleton?

A movement caught Arthur's attention and he grabbed Merlin quickly, before the boy could try to vanish unnoticed. As he gripped the thin wrist, the servant flinched back.

Arthur let go like he had burnt himself.  
>Merlin had actually <em>flinched<em> back, from him, Arthur, his goddamn _friend_, like he expected being hit or worse.  
>The Prince bit his lip, hurt, before he encouraged himself to go on. Merlin was upset, that was all. No way he really <em>feared<em> Arthur.

The servant seemed to have noticed his mistake too and froze, one hand unconsciously rubbing the back of his head as he stared at the floor nervously. He looked like a child expecting to be scolded, and Arthur instantly softened.

"How did you wake me this morning?"

The question came so surprising that Merlin looked up again, puzzled. When it became clear that Arthur wouldn't let him go before he received an answer, the boy reluctantly sighed and gave in.

"I opened the curtains."

"How did you do it?"

Merlin frowned. "With my hands. Arthur, I-"

"No, _Mer_lin, what did you say when you opened them?" Arthur interrupted his attempt to get away. Merlin began to look _really_ bewildered. "Nothing. I-"

Arthur stopped him again by clapping hard on his shoulder. "Exactly. Where was the lazy daisy? Or at least a simple 'up and about'?"

Merlin shrugged.

"So, what's the matter?"

The servant freed himself from the strong grip to glare at his master. "Arthur, that I didn't have any funny saying today doesn't mean something's wrong."

Arthur stared back disbelieving, quickly covering the feeling of triumph at Merlin's flashing eyes. "You woke me like any normal person, _on time_, had my breakfast ready, didn't protest when I told you about the hunting trip or when I gave you your chores for today, began to work immediately and without any half-witty comments and stayed quiet for the whole _two hours_. All in all, you behaved like any normal, efficient servant. You even called me 'Sire' or 'My Lord' a couple of times. So what's wrong? And don't even think about lying. I know you too well."

Merlin stared at Arthur wide-eyed for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like some stupid fish. The Prince barely bit back a remark, waiting until his servant had recovered himself enough to speak. "I'm not _that _bad usually."

Arthur only lifted his brows in an attempt to imitate Gaius (seriously, those brows _were_ scary) and Merlin sighed. "Fine. But it's nothing really. I'm just a bit tired."

The Prince quickly hid his disappointment at the clear lie and instead caught his servant in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles over the dark hair. Merlin whined like a girl and tried to wind himself out, inefficiently tugging at Arthur's strong arms. Finally the Prince released him and he stumbled back, glaring at Arthur's smirk.

"What was that for?"

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly. "I was bored. Don't complain so much, _Mer_lin. You sound like a girl."

"Prat!"

"Idiot."

"Clotpole."

"Girl's petticoat."

"Pompous, arrogant dollop head."

"Bumpkin."

"Cabbage head."

"Idiot."

"Ha! You already had that!"

Arthur pretended to thing hard, frowning. "Just suits you well."

His servant only grinned. "Admit it, you don't know any more insults, you... you snail-brain!"

The Prince only snorted. "I am your master, I know way more insults than you, if I need them. And you can't address me like that!"

Merlin lifted an eye brow, grinning cheekily. "I'm _so_ sorry. Admit it, _my Lord_!"

He couldn't see the grin forming on Arthur's face in response to his own happy face, as the Prince shook his head and returned to the waiting reports. Suddenly, the day seemed to have brightened.

Arthur loved it when his plans worked out.

**So, like I said, small chap... hope you still like it :D. And yeah, I _had_ to bring that scene with "..., _my Lord_" in... xD. It's just too good ;).  
>Next chapter, you'll get a very scary birthday... Arthur's birthday... guess what? ;) Well, review and you'll see :D.<strong>

**Review Responses:**

**Clairepenndragon: **Thank you once again for your review... :D xD Well, how could I? I'm the all-mighty author... ;D  
>No, none of your guesses will happen in this story xD.<br>Was it fast enough? Hopefully, wouldn't want you to have to use death threats, now would we ;)?  
>I'm working hard at blackmailing, my great aim is to one day blackmail the owners of Merlin to give it to me... ;D<p>

**Moonlight Streak:** Thank you for your review! :D I'm glad you like Merlin's feelings. And I'm already looking forward to the 'proper' review ;D.

**asdf: **Thanks you for your review :). I hope you liked this chapter as well.

**Wow, this was the most anonymous reviews I ever got for a chapter... thanks all of you :D!  
>And please review this one as well ;). I'd be grateful for sure. *puppy-dog eyes* ^^<br>**


	4. Chapter 3 P1: Dead Future, dead Heart

**Author's Note:**

**Hi:)  
>I have completely forgotten about this fic- how could that happen? o.O<br>Anyway, I'm currently trying to get as much as possible updated before I go away tomorrow. I have this chapter written for quite some time, just was too lazy to type it and then... well... yeah, the forgetting-thingy. It also is _very_ short, but I'll try to get the next one up before tomorrow, the operative word being 'try'^^.  
>Anyways, as always thanks to all who reviewed, favourited or alerted :D.<br>And on with the fic! Enjoy and please R&R :).  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: Though I don't own Merlin, I can still kill and torture him as much as I want... what a wonderful world xD.**

**Chapter 3: Dead Future, dead Heart  
><strong>

****_Watch my life,  
>Pass me by,<br>In the rear view mirror  
>Pictures frozen in time<br>Are becoming clearer_

_**'What's left of me' by Nick Lachey**  
><em>

When Merlin awoke, he couldn't see anything.

The warlock groaned sleepily, closing his eyes again. It was clearly before sunrise- no surprise there, lately he had problems with sleeping in general. At least Arthur seemed happy with his servant for once being in time. And a lot more suspicious, for that matter.

Merlin sighed and was just about to drift back into obliviousness, when he realized something strange. His eyes snapped open in shock, scanning the area, as a tight knot of uneasiness began to form in his gut.

Well, the warlock still couldn't see anthing, nothing changed here. Only it wasn't because of the darkness. It was, in fact, relatively bright- white instead of the expected black. Lightly glowing, wet and blurred white. _Fog.  
><em>_  
><em>Merlin gazed around harder, blinking against the blinding white. Still, he wasn't too worried. It needed a lot more than a little fog to break the deadly emptiness in his heart and make him feel again.

The fog faded slowly as Merlin seemed to move forward (without actually _moving_, which felt kind of strange), revealing the dark ruins of an old castle. Merlin shuddered briefly. The whole place reverberated with power, and besides it was clearly _not_ his room. How had ge gotten here?

The warlock tried to look down at himself, his eye brows knitting together as he noticed that, despite being able to move, he didn't have a _body_. Merlin noted it on his fast growing list of strangeness and once again examined his now clearer surroundings.

He was floating above an old castle, slightly smaller than Camelot, the what must have been impressive walls reduced to mere rubble by the passing time. Though not only time had destroyed the beautiful building, as the blackened stones told tales of fights, a prior attack. The grass that had grown between the cobbles looked brown and dead, poisoned by the mere atmosphere of the place. Death seemed to reek from every corner, lurking around to warn reckless visitors. _You aren't welcome here._

Merlin slowly sank down towards the rock covered floor, steadily though involuntarily approaching the old court yard. Rather unusual for a castle, this one held a big grey altar in its middle which was surrounded by a ring of large stones. Smoke was in the wind, but its burning wasn't what made Merlin narrow his eyes, nor the strong tingle of powerful magic used only minutes ago.

_The Isle of the Blessed._

Once recognized it was clear to see. The circle of stones that had distracted him was new, as was a long crack in the altar, nearly splitting it in to halfs. In fact, the whole former castle had been destroyed once again, which would also explain the magic in the air mingling with smoke and dust. The young warlock frowned. Something clearly was wrong here, _very_ wrong.

_A vision._

That's what it had to be. But Merlin wasn't a seer, was he? Just a thoroughly decent warlock, sentenced to death by destiny. Still, there was only one explanation for him being here. He was seeing the future.

A small spark of concern blazed up in his drowning hollowness as Merlin spotted a group of people spread out next to the stones all over the court yard. On mere thought, the warlock moved towards them, slowly taking in the torn red cloaks with their golden dragon crests, before he stopped dead in front of Sir Leon. His eyes slowly widening, Merlin scanned the other knights. Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, Owain- they all lie or sat on the floor, staring right through him like he was thin air (which he, supposedly, was in a strange way) on something behind the altar. Their fearful and almost manic gazes bode ill, still none of them moved, as if the time had come to a stop.

Somehow this lifeless scenery was even more scary. If the world ended one day, Merlin would imagine it exactly like this. He hesitated a moment unsure, before slowly stretching outone hand to touch Leon's shoulder. The knight didn't even jerk when Merlin's arm sank into his chest, forcing the warlock to pull back quickly as it made his flesh crawl. Of course, he was just a visitor at this strange place. Though Merlin couldn't quite decide if that was favourable.

After making sure as well as in any way possible without being able to touch anything that, though bruised and muddy, none of his friends was mortally wounded, the warlock carefully drifted after their gazes. Coming to stop next to the altar.

Despite all that had happened since he had arrived in this place, nothing could have prepared him to this sight. Merlin's eyes widened and he gasped in shock, struggling to flee even as a strange power was holding him in place.

Arthur's smooth blond hair stuck out in all directions, blood darkening the back of his head. The fine cloak was torn at the worst, muddy and burned until Merlin could barely make out its proud red. His sword, the good one all servants had to be so careful with, was completely gone, only its bloody scabbard and chain mail still intact.

The Prince himelf had a long cut across his cheek, one of his ocean blue eyes being swollen black and red until it was barely recognizeable. Blood, sweat and mud painting his skin in all shades and colours. But that wasn't what made Merlin choke and double over like he had been punched, tears streaming down his face unnoticed as his empty heart seemed to fill with pure burning ice.

For his Prince had tightly gripped a golden dagger, the hilt covered with rubies that marked it as a ceremonial knife, the shining blade dripping with blood just as glowing and red. It dropped slowly but steadily on the corpse before Arthur, the innocent face contorted with pain and growing a deadly white as more red streamed from a wound on the left chest.

_Red tears, shed by a broken heart._

Gasping for air, Merlin stared down at his own dead body.

**So... I don't think this is one of my best chapters and I was debating about using it at all, but well. I had to write something. Please tell me what to change to make it better? Or what's already good? :)**


	5. Chapter 3 P2: Dead Future, dead Heart

**Author's Note:**_  
><em>

**Hi again:)  
>Yay, I managed! Two chapters in one day (even if they are both a bit short^^).<br>OK, 2 days have passed since Merlin learned about the prophecy, now you get his view on the whole thing and how Gwen, Gaius etc. reacted to Merlin's recent behaviour :D. I was trying to get the chapter up ASAP, so a part was written on my mobile (which is too slow for my writing, so it always leaves letters out). I've tried to read everything through and correct it, but, well... just wanted to warn you :).  
>Enjoy and please R&amp;R! ;D <strong>

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin. Maybe it's better that way- I would most likely need years to film each season...^^  
><strong>

**Chapter 3: Dead Future, dead Heart (part 2)**

_I've been dying inside,  
>Little by little,<br>No where to go,  
>But going out of my mind<br>In endless circles,  
>Running from my self<em>

_**'What's left of me' by Nick Lachey**  
><em>

_Hope dies last._

The saying just wouldn't quit Merlin's head as he hurried to Arthur's chambers, the Prince's now clean cloak draped over one arm. It was already late afternoon and the young warlock had to run in wavy lines in order to make way to all the other servants and various artists, acrobats, dancers, jugglers, strong men and jesters getting ready for the banquet this evening. The celebration of Arthur's birthday.

Merlin paid just enough attention to smile at everyone of them, exchanging quick greetings with a few servants he saw on his way. No need to raise any more suspicions. Both Gaius and Gwen were already observing him for any unusual move, and after two days ago even _Arthur_ had noticed his servant's strange behaviour, Merlin had decided to be more careful, playing the happy fool for everyone. It wasn't as if Arthur was an idiot- well, at least not entirely- but he was one of the most oblivious people the warlock knew, meaning that when _Arthur _noticed his distress, everyone in Camelot must have.

Merlin quickly ducked to the left, almost bumping into another artist- a man with short blond hair and cold eyes- and stretched his fake smile a little more to apologize when the man glared, quickly putting a small black box away.

Hot eyes seemed to burn into Merlin's shoulder as he crossed the court yard and the young warlock gritted his teeth behing the foolish grin. _Arthur._

A brief glance at the castle towering before him proved Merlin right. Prince Arthur Pendragon was once again standing at the window, almost hidden from view as he stared down at his servant. Merlin tried to brighten his smile and lightened his steps a little.

Why was it that he had to befriend the most stubborn people in the whole kingdom? Gaius, Gwen and Arthur all three were able to sense the warlock was upset (Gwen more, Arthur less), though he refused to tell them why and would deny knowing what they were talking about. Still, the three of them seemed to have organized a kind of surveillance.

At the beginning, Merlin wasn't all that confused when Gwen appeared at his side more and more often, offering help with his chores and only leaving reluctantly when he assured her that, no, he would manage. He hadn't even become suspicious after Arthur's orders strangely led him to be near the Prince all day. Sadly, after nearly 48 hours of nonstop-observatiom, Merlin couldn't deny it anymore. They were watching him on purpose.

Really, he felt touched by their worry. Those three were truly Merlin's best friends, his family in Camelot (even though Arthur would never admit _that_) and the warlock couldn't wish for any kinder friends. But it was just so tiring to always be happy and friendly, play the cheerful servant when he felt like he had died inside. Each grin, each joke had become a maddening torture. Every happy greeting, every gentle reply felt like a knife in his heart, until the whole body ached. But there were always eyes, always his friends watching, so Merlin gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue. Play the happy fool, only for another day and another after that one and another, always waiting for Arthur's pointed finger, the inevitable words. _"Sorcerer. Kill him." _

Every time Merlin saw those bright blue eyes he feared the day they would stare back blank and cold, icy steel, cutting and killing him.

_Hope dies last._

The saying was so true and yet completely wrong. Merlin had always thought that, whatever happened, hope would survive every misery. It couldn't die, for it was the last to go and there came always something before. Now though his only hope, his dreams, had been murdered in a single night, and it _hurt_.  
>It hurt to know there was still something left after hope dies, two things even. Pain and pretence.<p>

Two hollow, dead things. Sometimes there was fear too, and grieve, but it was all neatly packed away and could do nothing but scratch on the cold barrier that had formed around Merlin's heart. He wasn't really there, only a shell, his body. The body of an innocent happy...

"...idiot! _Mer_lin!" What do you think you're doing?"

The servant stared up at his angry master, quickly forcing a sheepish grin onto his face, even though he didn't really understand what was wrong this time.

"This is the cloak I use for travelling, certainly not the ceremonial one."

Oh. The warlock really looked at said cloak for the first time, taking in the dark brownish red and heavy material, fit for a ride on a winter's day.

"Is it my fault you own so many different cloaks? And you call _me_ a girl!"

Arthur gazed back, his eyes flashing in annoyance and barely suppressed anger. "My mistake. Every _girl_ is more useful than _you_!"

"...says the one who can't dress himself."

Ok, so maybe Merlin should have been a little nicer on Arthur's birthday, but he was just so _fed up_ with Arthur, with Camelot, with destiny and life-

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the Prince grabbed him at his favourite red neckkerchief and turned him round until he faced away from Arthur's chambers.

"I honestly don't know what's wrong with you these last few days, but you better bring that cloak back and then go cleaning the stables. That should give you enough time to think about whether you still want to remain in my service."

Merlin took a step forward, but then stopped and turned back with true confusion. "But- the banquet...?"

Arthur only glared at him. "I'll get George to attend to me, while you work in the stables."

The young warlock just shrugged. The punishment was more like a reward than anything. Merlin had always liked the warm peace of the stables, working between the horses and especially now when everyone was at the banquet it would be wonderful calm and quiet. Alone, for the first time since that tragic night. He almost smiled at the thought.

This was the best Arthur could have done to Merlin, allowing him to escape the oppressive wealth of people, the whole tiring pretense. Be himself, or once.

And Merlin wouldn't even have to return to give Arthue his present he had already put it on the pile of gifts for the Prince that morning. There was no note or anything, but Arthur would know who had made it.

The Prince needed a new sheath fo his sword for quite some time now, so when Merlin had seen one made out of black leather two weeks ago in the market, it had fitted perfectly. He had given his whole salary of three months for the expensive thing, but it looked worth its prize. Merlin had also embroidered a small golden dragon on it, after Arthur had noticed and complimented- yes, _complimented_, even if it was only to cheer Merlin up after Lancelot had sacrificed himself- the embroidery of his first letters on the red neckkerchief. It had worked out quite nicely, with a little magic to make the sheath shine, it now looked definitely fit for a crown prince.

All in all, when Merlin made his way towards the stables he felt lighter than he had fortwo days now.

He didn't even notice Arthur's puzzled gaze as the Prince watched his servant walk away, a small smile tugging at his lips.

**I hope you liked it... :)  
>We're getting to Arthur's birthday now, so things are gonna speed up a bit. A little action- hope I'll manage that, and soon^^...<strong>

**Please review? :D  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 4: Of Wine And Magic

**Author's Note:**

**Hi y'all!  
>I'm back again, after what feels like eternity and a day... but to my defence I've been away a lot and my next few weeks will be even more stressful. So this chapter isn't very long nor very good, but I felt like I owed you at least <em>something<em>, so I used my last free evening to write... well, I hope it was worth it ;D.  
>There isn't any action at all in this chapter (not even talking) for which I'm very sorry- but I promise that it'll all come next chapter, whenever I'm able to write that^^.<br>This chapter is dedicated to all readers who haven't yet given up with me and to my wonderful _pareja_, with whom I have spent a fantsatic week.  
>As always, thanks for all alerts, favourites and especially the reviews! (I still haven't managed to organize my responses, so maybe I haven't replied to all- if you want a reply and haven't gotten one, just write me.)<br>More rambling at the end... now, enjoy and please R&R! :D  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: Don't own. And too distracted with season 5 to start any new blackmailing-attempts right now ;P.  
><strong>

**Chapter 4: Of Wine And Magic  
><strong>

The knife flew straight and true. Arthur's eyes widened as it darted towards him, his quiet yelp drowning in the cheering of the crowd. Sometimes nobles behaved worse than peasants. It disgusted the Prince every time anew.

Arthur watched the dagger circling the air as if in slow motion, the peoples' bright grins in the background. He was circling himself, one moment head up and the next already hanging by his feet in a nauseous momentum. The hilt turned towards him, then the blade, hilt, blade, hilt, blade, blade, blade-

With a satisfying clonk the knife drove into the painted wood right beside Arthur's had, barely cutting a straw of blond hair. The crowd around him rejoiced as the turning target was stopped and the strips around his arms and ankles were lossened and the artist bowed, grinning to himself. Even Uther applauded.

The Prince forced a bright smile on his face as he took a bite of the apple that had been put into his mouth and raised it like a trophy. He waited a moment until his balance settled down, before returning to his place. In an instant his servant was at his side to guide him and pour fresh wine into his still half-full goblet.

It was terrible.  
>Arthur had never noticed just how much he depended on Merlin during those festivals, not just to fill his drink but also to stand there at his side with a cheeky grin and a few sneaky remarks. Whenever the nobles were getting too unbearably dull he could trust his servant to make some kind of stupid joke and lighten the mood.<p>

Now the Prince had already turned for the tenth time to say something, only to find the zealous and fawning eyes of George staring back.

It only showed how much he needed Merlin at his side, which made Arthur despise everything even more. A Prince should be able to stand a feast without his manservant. He needed to be independent, not just some weak fool. Heck, this was his own birthday party! He should cheer with the crowd and be happy. Even his father had broken through his lethargy to celebrate with Arthur and the court. The evening was perfect and the jugglers were doing their best to please the crowd, throwing burning juggling clubs almost up to the heavily decorated ceiling.

Camelot was glowing in all her beauty, red and gold shining from every wall and all candles lit. The tables were bursting with every kind of food one could wish for and through which the nobles were digging right now, looking like kids in the Land of Cockaigne.

Yet only the wine could make it more bearable for Arthur. It drowned the nigging feeling of uneasiness that had been following him during the last week and made everything brighter and more colourful. Easier to smile and touch glasses with his father instead of thinking about the problems he would surely soon have to face.

Arthur took another sip of his wine. Hopefully he would be able to retire soon, or he might be completely drunk by the time the celebrations were over.

_xxx_

Merlin was growing more bored by second.

He had been waiting and wishing for some time alone profoundly during the last few days, yet now he couldn't seem to stand the silence. It just made too much room for his own thoughts and feelings, letting the whole bitterness well up again and again. All the memories he had worked so hard to suppress were surfacing one by one. It felt like tearing a wound open.

And in these stupid dull stables there was nothing to distract him from himself. No one to lean onto or talk to, even if it was just for a few cheeky remarks and a little banter. Right now Merlin would have been more than grateful for Arthur's insults, Gwen's rambling or at least a good old villain's 'How should a simple servant be able to stop me'-speeche (though he had heard and refuted that already way too often). A fight could perhaps calm his twirling and bubbling magic.

The warlock glanced at the stables that were mucking themselves around him- today it was save to do so, with everyone else attending the celebrations- and sighed. This task was too easy to afford any real power, like most things. He was growing more powerful by day.

Gaius was astounded, Arthur oblivious and Merlin simply annoyed. The frustration of never being able to use his full powers, great enough to twist and churn like a wild beast, but oh-so small compared with the emptiness inside of him. If everything continued like right now, one day he would most likely just explode and let the whole magic wash over Camelot. At least then Arthur would have a plausible reason to kill him.

The young warlock growled and massaged his temples, pressing the fingers on his eyes until he saw black and white spots dancing in his vision.

It was no good. He would have to go back and join the crowd or at least find something more useful to do.

With a flick of his hand, the old straw disappeared and was safely teleported to the compost (there had been an accident once, when he had let all the dirt vanish, only to nearly be rendered deaf by the screams of a Lady as it reappeared in her chambers. Apparently he failed at making it disappear completely. Since then Merlin had avoided this method). The easy rush of magic made Merlin smile unconsciously, his eyes burning and his whole being tingling while tendrils of power caressed his hurting mind. The feeling stopped again way too soon.

Another flick, another short high, and fresh straw covered the ground. The horses barely even flinched anymore at the rash changes of their surrounding.

Merlin sighed again as the calmness faded away and a small bubble of light showed up in the air in front of his face, the magic sensing his need of its gentle rush. It glowed temptingly bright and warm, prompting him to give in and relax to the momentary peace it could offer.

The warlock shook his head and quickly extinguished the light again, pushing himself away from the wall to return to Arthur's chambers. The Prince would most likely still be at the feast, but maybe he could find a distraction there anyway.

And he desperately needed one, if he didn't want his magic to destroy Camelot just to make him feel better.

**First, thanks for reading! :) Now, what do you think? Bad? Worse? Or is that just my general feeling and it's even OK ;P?**

**And something completely off-topic: SEASON 5! Sooooooooooo(...)ooooooooo awesome...  
>I don't want to write too much because of the people who haven't seen it yet, but-<br>Beware of spoons and creepy prophecies!  
>Everyone who has already seen it and wants to talk, just write me... I've seen all episodes so far. And I need to rant about them, especially the fifth.<br>**

**Review Responses:  
><strong>

**Clairepenndragon:** Hi once again and thank you for your review:). I'm glad you like the un-prattishness and feelings. I was afraid they were totally OOC... and I'm really sorry I'm updating so slowly right now. I'll try to do better, but somehow I can't find the time and my muse is on holidays... with all the plot bunnies -.-. Hope to see you soon! :)**  
><strong>

**Guest: **Hi and thanks for the review! I'm sorry I'm almost exactly one month late... and then with this rather short chapter. I'll update ASAP. Which means in about one month, if my timing remains... *sigh* well, I'll try.

**Again I want to apologize to everyone and for all of my stories- my update timing is horrible, I know that, and I'm eternally grateful that some still read my stories despite that. Also, reviews make my day and me write faster (however cliché that sounds after my last updates...). Pretty pretty please? :)**


	7. Chapter 5: The Wicked Day

**Author's Note:  
><strong>

**Hi everyone:)  
>Uhm... I really don't know what to say. I'm back! After more than one year, inspiration suddenly hit me and I started writing again (which makes me feel guilty, because I haven't updated my other stories for <em>ages<em>. But school is hell right now and I've discovered a new fandom: 'White Collar'! Love it:D).**  
><strong>Anywa<strong>**ys... I hope you still remember what happened before. In case you don't, here's the _very_ short version:  
>Merlin forced Kilgharrah to tell him the end of the prophecy, which included either him or Arthur dying at the other's hand. Since then he's been very depressed<strong>**. And now it's Arthur's birthday... and Merlin couldn't go to the banquet, because he had to clean the stables instead (not that he minded all that much).  
>Okay, up to date again? Then a (very belated)<strong> **thanks for the reviews, alerts and favourites and... on with the story!  
>Enjoy and please R&amp;R! :)<strong>

**Dsiclaimer: Don't own (not even the tite...).**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 5: The Wicked Day<strong>

Arthur's room was pitch black when Merlin finally stumbled in, feeling his way in order to stay upright in the dark. His body ached from the day and the whole stress during the last week, but for the first time he felt nearly at peace with himself. Why should he be worried by an old prophecy? It wasn't like he had ever been good at obeying anyone or anything, he wouldn't start now. Forget the old lizard and his stupid riddles.

The young warlock took another step forward, only realizing a second to late that there was a stool in his way. He didn't even have the time to curse before he fell head first, pulling the stool plus parts of Arthur's armour that had been on it down with him. The noise was deafening and for a few moments Merlin just stayed where he lay, groaning as he rubbed his head. Arthur should get a carpet or something. That way the ground wouldn't be as hard _and _he would be able to have a dent-less armour for once!

A soft sound from the window made the warlock freeze and slowly get back on his hands and knees, careful not to knock himself over again as he lifted. A dark silhouette was huddling against the windowsill, barely visible against the dark sky outside. Whoever it was didn't seem very threatening, but still Merlin was ready to use his magic and fight the intruder at any moment.

Locking his eyes on the shadow, Merlin inched closer, promptly kicking an arm guard across the floor. The silhouette didn't move. It took another five (more silent) steps until he recognized the blond hair and muscled form. _Arthur. _What was he doing here instead of at his birthday party?

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Merlin startled at the slightly slurred words. He hadn't thought that the Prince had noticed him. Though in hindsight, it would have been quite hard not to have noticed his entrance.

The warlock moved to stand next to Arthur, staring through the window across the courtyard. The sky was clear, shining with millions of small diamonds on a soft black ground. It _was _beautiful.

"It is."

For a few moments, both boys stood in silence, then Merlin sighed. "What are you doing here?"

Arthur didn't react and he already thought that the Prince hadn't heard him at all, when he suddenly turned round and shrugged. "Couldn't stand the party anymore."

The warlock chuckled. Well, he could understand that.

"You could have lighted a candle", he said nonetheless. Again, the Prince shrugged.

"Liked the darkness. 'Snot like I'm scared of it. 'M a warrior. You learn to control your fear."

"Of course." Merlin couldn't hide a small smile, but Arthur didn't seem to notice. "How did you like your presents, o mighty warrior?"

The Prince frowned, obviously trying to find out if his seravnt had just insulted him or actually behaved respectfully. In the end he decided to ignore it.

"I haven't opened them. Yet."

This caused Merlin to raise an eye brow in a near-to-perfect imitation of Gaius. Arthur loved getting things, even though he was a Prince and could get everything he wanted with a snap of his finger (as long as Merlin wasn't around, anyway). There was still something different about getting birthday presents. But today- or rather, to_night_- Arthur honestly didn't look like he cared.

"Alright then..." Merlin paused, unsure what to say.

"It's the day of her death, you know" the Prince continued, sounding slightly less slurred, but still not completely sober. Merlin didn't have to ask who. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't been born."

The young warlock felt his breath catch at the idea. A world with Igraine would be a world with magic. A world where the Great Purge had never happened, where he would have been able to practice his powers freely, not hide them, where he could _help_ people without having to worry about them being sentenced to death...

And it would also be a world without Arthur. Without the One and Future King, without destiny. Would he, Merlin, even have been born?

"I'm glad you were born" he said finally, backtracking almost immediately. "Not that she... Igraine... died, of course. But you are a great Prince and you will be an even greater King, Arthur. And most of all... you're my friend. And I wouldn't want a world without you."

Even as Merlin said it, he felt the truth behind his words. For all pain this world had brought everyone- Uther, Arthur, sorcerers, magic, _him_- he wouldn't want it any other way, if that meant that his friend would cease to exist.

Even if he had to die for his destiny. And even if Arthur would be the one killing him.

When Merlin looked up, he noticed the Prince's blue eyes watching him, and he smiled slightly. Tomorrow Arthur would most likely have forgotten what he had said- or that they had talked at all- but he wouldn't forget.

"Thank you" the warlock said softly and Arthur nodded, although he couldn't know what Merlin was thanking him for. For a moment both stood there in silence, enjoying the calmness of the dark room and the knowledge that a friend was nearby, then Merlin sighed and turned around.

He had already reached the doorstep when he stopped again and turned to face Arthur.

"She would be proud of you, you know." He paused, but the Prince didn't react, continuing to gaze at the stars as if they hold all the answers. "You should go and visit your father. He might want to see you." Still no answer. Merlin sighed again, pulling the door closed between them. "Goodnight, Arthur."

* * *

><p>Had he known what effect those few innocent words- "You should go and visit your father"- would have, he would still have said them. For if Arthur hadn't visited his father, the assassin would have surprised and killed him. If he hadn't visited his father, it wouldn't have been Uther who had lain on the ground, bleeding out under Arthur's desperate hand.<p>

There would have been no one to call the guards.

And Merlin couldn't bring himself to think differently or even feel remorse- not as he watched Uther's still and ghostly pale face while Gaius bound the injuries, not as he saw the old man's sorrow for an old friend- even if they had separated more and more over the years- and Arthur's pain over almost-and-maybe-still losing his father.

He felt guilty, but he didn't regret it.

Still, it seemed only logical to help Arthur. And if it was only to ease his friend's agony, who cared?

The feeling of hope the rose within him when he heard the Prince's words, spoken in a quiet and serious voice- "There is a way to heal my father. With magic."- was overwhelming and for a moment, just a moment, he thought _If this is what it would have taken..._

But then Arthur's blue eyes met his, looking lost and _scared_ for the first time he could remember, and Merlin felt bad for thinking like that. Uther was Arthur's father, which meant he had to be saved, for Arthur's good.

He felt proud that Arthur had asked him, out of everyone he could have. It was a prove for the strength of their friendship. For the time being, it seemed like his death was farther away than ever- and that all he had hoped for was finally so close.

It seemed logical then to tell Arthur about his magic, everything. He could remember the scene to the last detail:

Him, slowly opening the door- without knocking, as always- feeling more nervous than he could remember having felt ever before. Arthur stood at the window, gazing outside as the evening settled over Camelot, like the night of his birthday. It felt like ages ago now.

Merlin entered just as quietly and then leaned with his back against the door, seeking support and feeling surrounded at the same time. It took hours for him to open his mouth, longer to talk. "I have to tell you something."

The Prince turned around, obviously sensing that something important was happening, and Merlin forced himself to push away from the door and face his friend in the middle of the room. "Arthur-"

He couldn't continue. He couldn't.

"What is it?"

His friend's voice sounded calm while his eyes were scanning Merlin, looking for signs of what was wrong in the way they always had- more alive than for the past few days. It gave the warlock enough courage to take a shuddering breath.

"You said that you wanted to use magic- to heal your father" he started, eyes locking with Arthur's to make sure his opinions hadn't changed. The Prince simply nodded, for once waiting patiently. "I have to-"

Again he paused, unsure of how to proceed. How do you tell your best friend that you have been lying to them since the day you first met?

"Do you still remember when Gwen was imprisoned because Uther thought she had cured her father with magic and killed all the others? Before we found out that it was really the Afanc?"

Arthur nodded again without a moment of hesitation. "You ran in front of the whole Court and told them you were a sorcerer and had healed Tom."

"I told the truth."

It was out, before he could take another breath- and then leaving him wishing he had, because now he was standing there and couldn't quite remember how to breathe in.

"I'm a warlock, Arthur. I have magic. I was born with it. But I... I-" _Breathe. Just breathe._ "I swear, I've only ever used it to help you. Or well, help people. I've only used it against you when we fought, the second time we met. And you didn't even notice, so no harm done, right? And-"

Merlin noticed he was rambling and quickly shut his mouth, watching Arthur. The Prince stood stockstill, eyes narrowed to slits.

"Don't lie to me, Merlin."

His voice was raw and for a moment Merlin felt disappointed, frustrated, that Arthur would think that- but then he simply lifted his hand and whispered: "Forbearne."

The flame that appeared on his hand was small, about twice the size of that of a normal candle, but still Arthur's hand reached for his sword. Merlin flinched and pulled his hand back, extinguishing the fire.

But realizing what he was doing, the Prince slowly took his hand back and let it fall to his side, watching Merlin like an animal that could attack you at any moment.

"Why haven't you told me?"

"I didn't want to force you to decide between me and your father. I guess I was scared of destroying our friendship. But now that he is..." Merlin paused and tried again. "I can see how much it hurts you to lose him. So I will help you." He gulped. "If you still want me to, that is."

Arthur nodded slowly, understanding shining in his eyes. "You have had... it... since you were born? How is that possible?"

The warlock managed a small smile. "I'm no ordinary sorcerer. Every now and then it happens that someone discovers magic without being taught. Usually it happens around puberty, sometimes at a young age too and rarely at an older age. The druids call me a warlock- a being of magic. Morgana was a witch." He flinched, realizing too late that mentioning Morgana was probably not his best choice, but Arthur didn't react to it.

In fact, he didn't react a lot to Merlin having magic _at all_.

"So, you're powerful?" the Prince only asked, ignoring his servant's frightened glances. Merlin nodded.

"I'm said to be the most powerful magic user walking the earth."

Maybe he should have left that out too, but Arthur simply nodded. "And you would help me?"

_So that's what it was about._ "It's what I've always done, Arthur" he answered quietly. "And what I'll always do."

The Prince exhaled slowly. "Then you are welcome to do so."

He turned and walked back to the window, only slightly tense at turning his back to a sorcerer. Merlin gaped at him for a few seconds, then he decided to leave and let Arthur think it over. Maybe- _hopefully_- the Prince would be better once he had healed his father.

When he had almost reached the door, Arthur called him back. "Merlin?"

The warlock froze and then slowly turned, meeting Arthur's eyes. "Yes?"

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he spoke, he sounded more like his usual self. "You are still an idiot and I will be _very_ angry at you once this is all over, I promise. But for now all that matters to me is that you can help my father."

Merlin nodded quickly. "I can."

"Good." Again the Prince paused, seeming unsure for a moment before he made a decision. "If you can save him, I give you my solemn word that when I am King, things will be different. You won't have to live in fear."

All Merlin could do was gape at Arthur- for the second time in the past five minutes. This was his wish come true, his destiny coming to a conclusion. It was scary and liberating at once. It was more than he had ever hoped for and it made his heart jump with joy, made him want to hug Arthur, but he couldn't- not right now. The Prince would probably react on instinct and kill the sorcerer running towards him.

And with that one thought, suddenly it was easier to be serious again.

All Merlin managed was a quiet "Thank you", then he was out of the room and running to his room, where he could let his legs give out and lie on the ground unmoving for a few minutes without anyone questioning him.

* * *

><p><strong>Was it alright? I'm really unsure about the whole revealing scene... felt a bit quick. But I wanted to get the plot moving again. (There isn't even that much plot left to move... o.o but like I said, there'll be a sequel).<strong>

**Oh, and by the way- I'm doing NaNoWriMo, so I didn't think I would write any fanfiction this month. But the original story I chose isn't going all that well, so I'm working on fanfics right now... which means you can expect more updates relatively soon. Though of course reviews always help:) *hint, hint***


	8. Chapter 6: Day of Death

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone:)  
>I said I would update rather soon, didn't I? Well, here is the next part. I count 19 days as 'relatively' soon...:D<br>The good news: I have finished this story. Not edited it yet or anything and absolutely no time to do so in the next few weeks, but at least it's written, so hopefully my updates will become faster. Oh, and I've written almost 20 pages of the sequel as well. The wonders of NaNo... (which I won, by the way. If anyone is interested. Though I'll brag anyway :P).  
>I had to rewrite this chapter, because I forgot part of the preceding plot when I wrote it, but I think I've changed anything... just, if you find any mistakes, please tell me. Oh, and sorry for the slightly depressing title. I couldn't think of a better one :D.<br>Thanks for the reviews, alerts and favourites! (And good luck to everyone doing NaNo and still racing against the clock- congrats to those who have already won.)  
>Enjoy and please R&amp;R! :)<br>**

**Warning: Lots of depression; some thoughts could be interpreted as suicidal.**

**Dislcaimer: Not even close to owning Merlin. **

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 6: Day of Death<strong>

None of them had expected Agravaine to tell Morgana, or Morgana to make a vicious plan.

Merlin hadn't seen the pendant when he put exactly four drops of hogswart on Uther's lips and hold the branch above his head. He didn't suspect anything when he told Arthur about the magic woven into the land and the air and the water and the fire, into the fabric of the earth, to convince him to proceed.

If he had doubted the spell, he would have stopped instantly. But he didn't.

"Efencume ætgædre, eala gastas cræftige: gestricie pis lic forod."

The words left his mouth easily, his tongue by now used to the Old Tongue, and for a moment both Arthur and Merlin stood tensely at the edge of the bed, waiting for something- _any_thing- to happen.

Then Uther's eyes flew open.

Arthur breathed in sharply, his face shining with joy as he reached for his father's hand. "Father... Father?"

"Arthur."

They clasped hands, smiling at each other and Merlin was just about to quietly back out of the room when suddenly all went to hell. At first, Uther's face contorted with pain, making Arthur's smile change to a frightened grimace. Then his breath failed.

Without a moment's hesitation, Arthur turned to Merlin, who had already rushed back to the bedside, his thoughts racing.

"What's happening?!"

"I don't know..."

It was the worst answer possible, but the only true one. The spell should have worked. It should have healed Uther, made Arthur forgive magic, solved Merlin's destiny.

He hadn't even thought of the end of the prophecy. But of course you can't avoid destiny.

When Uther went still, Merlin reached for his arm without wanting to as his feeling of dread increased. He waited for a long time, longer than he would have with anyone else, before his let his hand fall back and stared at Uther, suddenly very pale.

"He's dead."

In an instant Arthur, who had hovered next to him, was all over his father- talking to him, shaking him as if he was just asleep. Merlin could only continue to stare at the face of the dead king, his mind reeling. _How couldn't it have worked?_

When the warlock finally managed to look up, Arthur's gaze hit him like a knife in the stomach.

"What have you done?"

The question was harsh, full of accuses and anger. Merlin reeled back. "This was not supposed to happen, I promise. It should have saved him-"

But Arthur simply interrupted him, eyes still looking cold and dead- more than his father's. "You killed him. You're nothing but a liar and a murderer!"

"No..." Merlin tried weakly to protest, pulling away as Arthur advanced on him, the sword in his hand. "Please, Arthur. I wanted to help, I promise, nothing more. Arthur..."

The Prince didn't seem to hear him. "You'll die for what you've done!"

Merlin reacted on instinct, shouting "Hleap on bæc!" seconds before Arthur's sword came down. The Prince was flung back and fell on the floor, momentarily stunned. But Merlin couldn't move away, couldn't run, was frozen- glued to the floor...

He had waited a second too long. Arthur was a great warrior and quick to regain his senses, immediately sitting up.

"Guards!"

And suddenly they were surrounded by men wearing Camelot's uniform, Camelot's crest, and Arthur was glaring at Merlin as they grabbed his arms and forced them in chains.

"I'll have your head."

"Please, I'm begging, _Arthur_-"

But again, he was ignored.

"You'll be burned on stake tomorrow morning. Guards, take him away. I don't want to see his face anymore."

And, despite all his power, Merlin was helpless as they dragged him away, towards the dungeons- and towards his death.

He should have known he couldn't trick destiny. Now the prophecy would come true.

* * *

><p>He couldn't sleep.<p>

Merlin had never imagined this to be his greatest problem the night before his death, but right now he really felt like it was. The dungeons were dark and chilly and his thoughts were still reeling- _how could this have happened how could it have come this far why had Uther died **what** exactly had happened_- when all he wanted was just a little sleep. A few moments of precious obliviousness, a few seconds pretend that nothing had happened, that Arthur was still his best friend and his world still whole. That nothing had changed.

But he knew that, even if he did fall asleep, the nightmares would be just as bad as reality (_at least he could wake up and know it had all been a bad dream then now he couldn't couldn't wake up he wanted to wake up-_). So Merlin stayed awake.

The young warlock had never thought that this was how it would end. In the dungeons he had visited so often he knew almost all the guards with their names (not that they would talk to him _now_), sentenced by his best friend for his destiny.

It was the worst thing he could possibly have imagined. And he had imagined lots of outcomes to him telling Arthur. Ones where Arthur banished him, where he cursed and shouted and their friendship was broken beyond recogition- and also some where Arthur had accepted him eventually and they could live happily ever after.

Now, in retrosepct, it sounded too much like a fairytale to come true.

The bells rang midnight and Merlin curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees, finally allowing the tears in his eyes to spill.

He wasn't even sad. He was too numb to feel anything as strong as sadness.

But still they were running down his cheeks, leaving cold trails where they passed. It was stupid. Stupidstupidstupid.

_Idiot_, Arthur's voice said in his head and something in Merlin's chest constricted painfully.

He couldn't do this. How had he ever thought he could lie here, could accept Arthur's judgement, when his life depended on it? Surely the Prince would see clearer in the morning. Or at least by tomorrow. Or the day after.

It was just one of the fits of anger Arthur was famous for. It would pass. It would all be back to normal in a few days. Which of course meant that he had to escape, to flee. The Prince would regret sentencing him to death in a moment of anger, hurt and betrayal. He would never forgive himself if Merlin died.

But if he escaped, he could come back and explain everything once Arthur had calmed down. They could- _would_- make it work.

It made perfectly sense.

Or at least it would have, if it wasn't for the small voice in the back of his head that told him that no, Arthur wouldn't calm down and forgive him and let him explain. No, they would never be friends again. And no, Merlin couldn't flee.

It would betray everything he had ever believed. How serious and dramatic it had felt to think that he would accept the fate Arthur wanted for him, no matter what. So much easier said than done...

After a long while he noticed that the tears had stopped and his face was dry again. Only his nose was still stuffed from crying.

Everything was completely silent, outside as well as in the dungeons. Camelot was asleep. Only the guards were still awake, guarding or not-guarding the castle (depending on who you asked). But even the guards in front of the dungeons had the doors closed, so their laughter and the sounds of their game of dices couldn't be heard were he lay.

Merlin remembered the time he had used his magic to cheat on Arthur, making the dices show the same numbers again and again. The Prince had been furious, but underneath his anger, there had still been the spark of amusement that always shone in his eyes when he looked at Merlin. The one that said 'you're my friend, even if I'll never tell you. Now stop fooling around, you idiot'.

The one he would never see again.

_And he hadn't even said goodbye to Gaius._

* * *

><p>Despite his earlier thoughts Merlin must have slept, and luckily dreamless, for when he opened his eyes again the sky was getting lighter and the court was bustling with people. Guards and servants running around to get their one task completed until dawn.<p>

All at once Merlin felt unusually calm.

His fate had been decided even then, hadn't it? Heck, it had most likely been decided before he was _born_.

And now Arthur- his best friend, his master, the older brother he had never had, his hope and _destiny_- had ordered to have him killed the next morning. Merlin glanced tiredly through the window at the fast growing pyre. Dawn was nearing now and it would be finished soon.

He examined the still shady sky. It was of a dark gray, only a single star peering through the thick clouds, shining with all its strength.

The clouds moved on and it vanished again.

Merlin sighed and sank back on the ground, ignoring the chains that clinked with his every movement. At least it was getting warmer. (_He was pretty sure the fire would be warm,_ _too._)

Soon the stars would all retreat and make way to the first sunlight.

The first and his last.

He had to stiffle a hysterical laugh. Funny, how life played, wasn't it? A few hours ago he had thought that all his dreams and hopes were coming true.

A few days ago he had been depressed, expecting Arthur to turn onto him whenever their eyes met.

And a few weeks ago he hadn't even known the full prophecy, resting in comfortable oblivion.

_Did it have to be like this?_, he wondered, _had it all been written down centureis ago? Or could his decisions have changed something?_

He quickly pushed the thought away.

A first ray of the rising sun broke through the clouds and shone right through the little wondow into his cell. Merlin could hear shuffling and steps on the stairs as he watched the men outside putting the last branch of the pyre in place. They were coming to get him.

The warlock smiled bitterly. Destiny really must want him dead, taking the one thing that made his life worth living and killing him in the process. Merlin stared thoughtfully at the rising sun, red in all its shining glory, as the knights arrived at his cell.

It was his last chance to turn around and flee. He could knock the knights down without so much as a word, run away and never return to Camelot. It was so simple, his magic more natural than breathing, rushing to his aid at the very thought.

But Merlin suppressed it, lifting stiffly to go freely with the knights. (_If Arthur and destiny both wanted him dead so badly, who was he to argue?_)

The young warlock grinned at the dumbfounded knights. His decision stood firm.

They wanted gim dead? Well, then so be it. Merlin of Camelot would die today.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay... the first part seemed too fast and the end too abrupt. But hopefully I'm wrong and it's just my inner editor yelling at me that my writing is crap ;P.<strong>

**So, what do you think? I know Arthur's decision was rather harsh, but he never did trust magic... and since Morgana was 'corrupted' as well even though she was his sister, I guessed Merlin 'killing' Uther would bring back bad memories. **

**Anyways... a review only takes several minutes to write. This took a lot longer (even though I can't remember how long exactly- writing most of it in the middle of the night will do that to you). Please?**

**Oh, and one last and very important question: Do you think the rating is okay? And if not, what would you suggest?**


	9. Chapter 7: Realizations

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone:)  
>Sorry once again for the wait. I've used NaNo to finish this story and begin the sequel, but I felt that it needed a bit of editing- and I couldn't find enough time <strong>**to edit and post it until now. I'll try to be faster next time (there are only two more chapters to go!).  
>I was asked why Arthur would use such a harsh punishment as burning Merlin alive... well, here's a little insight on his thoughts and feelings. Hope that makes it a bit clearer.<br>Thanks for the reviews, alerts and favs!  
>Enjoy and please R&amp;R:)<strong>

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 7: Realizations<strong>

Arthur was leaning against the window of his room, watching the last branches of the pyre being put in place. He hadn't slept at all last night, unable to close his eyes without _the_ scene replaying in his head over and over again. His father's look when the spell worked its evil charm, killing the king.

So that's what M- _the sorcerer_ had been after all along. He couldn't say he hadn't wondered when the sorcerer had told him about being the most powerful magic user in the world why he had spent all those years working as Arthur's manservant. Doing all the dirty work (although in retrospect he had most likely used magic for everything), when he could have _reigned_ the kingdom. Of course Arthur had tried to erase the thought, having believed the _traitor_ to be his friend, but his fathers words had played in his head nonetheless. _"Magic always has an ultimate goal. It deceives you, tricks you into trusting it- and then stabs you in the back. Never forget this, Arthur."_

But he hadn't listened, had forced himself to forget, and now his father was dead. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He had believed M- the sorcerer to be his best friend. Arthur had risked his life to save his- and vice versa. But in the end, how much of it had been true? And how much had just been one great act to make Arthur trust him in order to get to his father?

The Prince- and soon to be _King_, even if he didn't like the thought, wasn't _ready_- only noticed how hard he had been biting down on his lip when he tasted blood. He had survived countless attacks in his relatively short life, but none had ever hurt him that much.

This one had cost him his father and his best friend in one night.

Because, even though Merlin had been lying to him from the beginning and most of their friendship probably _was_ an act, it had still been true while it lasted, and (not that he would ever admit it) dear. He couldn't erase those years. He could only make sure to set an example, to show that he was a strong leader to his people and that magic wasn't welcome in Camelot, even though his father had passed away.

Which was why he needed to burn the sorcerer, even if it hurt him. Even if a small voice in his chest screamed that this _wasn't right, wasn't how it should be_. Arthur had to overcome the net of lies in which he had been entangled for so long, had to finally free himself and fight for his father's beliefs.

He would be a good King to his people.

* * *

><p>When Gaius hadn't heard anything from Merlin by midnight, he was beginning to get <em>very<em> worried.

The boy had told him not to stay up- of course- because it could get late and he needed some rest after a long work day. And seriously, it was true. Except for the bit that he couldn't possibly rest, knowing that his nephew was somewhere in the castle curing _Uther_ of all people with his magic, while Arthur watched.

The Prince had admittedly reacted very well to the fact that Merlin had magic at all. Almost too well in Gaius' opinion- the storm would surely come once Uther was healthy again, but by then hopefully Arthur would realize that magic wasn't all evil. And he hadn't wanted to ruin Merlin's good mood by telling him his thoughts. After all, they could very well be just the weary thoughts of an old man.

Still, and despite how difficult healing spells were, Merlin should have been back by now.

When the bells were ringing midnight and there was still no sign of the boy, Gaius finally lifted himself, groaning, and made his way over to Uther's chambers. There were two guards in front of them- not all that strange, seeing as the King was helpless at the moment, but it had to mean that Arthur and Merlin had already left, didn't it?

Gaius stepped up to them and forced himself to smile, even though they immediately blocked his path.

"I have to see the King" he declared. The guards exchanged a look.

"No one is to disturb the King, on Prince Arthur's direct orders" the one on the left answered, sounding a bit too arrogant in the physician's opinion. Gaius lifted an eyebrow.

"Killian, you surely haven't forgotten how I treated your wife last winter when she had the flu? You know the Prince trusts me with his life. I've known him since he was born. Now, _surely_, you wouldn't question my need to see the King _immediately_."

Killian gulped and stepped back, lowering his head slightly in shame, but his comrade didn't back down.

"We have orders only to let the Prince pass. No one else must enter the King's chambers, on penalty of death."

On the outside Gaius stared very hard at the guard, as if scolding a young boy, but on the inside his thoughts were racing. What could possibly have happened in there? The only reason for Arthur's actions he could think of was the King's death. They would have to keep it quite long enough to plan the crowning ceremony- Camelot wasn't strong enough to withstand its enemies with only a Prince regent, even if his people loved him. But if Uther was dead, what had happened to Merlin?

Gaius quickly pushed the thought away and stood a little straighter, his brow raising even further.

"Alright then, I will go get the Prince. I'm sure he'll be very happy to be disturbed at such a late hour, only because two guards couldn't use their brains" he said with as much confidence as he could and turned around. He had only taken a few steps, hearing the guards talking in hushed voices behind him, when they called him back.

"I guess he does trust you, so it will be alright" the one on the right said and Killian nodded quickly, both stepping aside to let him pass.

A few seconds later Gaius almost wished they hadn't let him through as was standing next to the bed, feeling his world unravel at the sight before him.

Uther was lying there, still and pale as death, and definitely _not breathing_. Still, Gaius reached for his arm- to feel his pulse, to be completely sure- and instantly noticed how cold the skin was. Too cold for someone still alive.

For a moment the physician just stood there, feeling his age bearing down on him like a huge weight on his shoulders, watching his oldest friend.

Yes, they had separated more and more over the years, their different beliefs making it hard to stay close. And yes, Gaius had lost lots of friends- had watched lots of people die under his hands when he couldn't save them with all his knowledge. He knew death better than most.

It looked good on Uther.

The King almost looked as if he had merely fallen asleep, his features peaceful and the hard line around his mouth softened slightly. His eyes were closed, hiding the gaze that had pierced so many. And there was something around his neck- a pendant, Gaius noticed, when he carefully took a closer look. Someone else, presumably Arthur, must have put it there- for usually Uther wasn't one to wear any kind of necklace. Yes, Uther looked good in his death, even if it was early.

The physician couldn't tell how long he had been standing there- it felt like hours, but could just as well have been minutes, when he heard something from outside. Doors opened and closed, a horse whinied.

Curious, Gaius stepped up to the window and peered outside, his eyes quickly finding a light in the dark. The stables were open, guards milling in and out and forming a troop. One of them was giving orders, just loud enough for the old man to understand him whenever the wind carried his voice up to the window.

"Enough wood..." the man was saying. "at dawn. We must... build... quickly. The Prince... pyre... ready."

His last words sent cold shivers down Gaius' spine as the feeling of dread that had been increasing for the past few minutes finally crashed down on him. With a few quick steps he was back at Uther's side, snatching the pendant to study it more closely.

True to his worries, there were small words of the Old Tongue running along the side of the thing. Gaius couldn't decipher all of it- but he could understand enough to learn about its effect. _'Reverse and multiply.'_

Suddenly he felt nauseous. If Merlin had used the spell they had found on Uther- and he surely had- the King had stood no chance. All power of Emrys' magic combined with the magic of the pendant must have killed him within seconds. No time to react to the catastrophe and utter another spell.

At one blow, everything made sense. The guards had to build a pyre until dawn. Uther was wearing a reversing pendant. Merlin was nowhere to be found.

In a hurry, Gaius loosened the string that hold the pendant and rushed to the door. He had to find the Prince before it was too late.

His nephew's life depended on it.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you liked it... and that Arthur wasn't too OOC. Review? :)<strong>

**On another note, have you seen the new Sherlock episode? I have, thanks to the internet (we don't even have a release date yet in my country, because apparently they're just that slow -.-), and I love it. Even though Sherlock seemed... off sometimes. (And they definitely put characters over plot- which isn't a bad thing, btw.)**


	10. Chapter 8: Fire

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone:)  
>I know it's been half a year (even though I finished writing this story in November). I couldn't find the time to edit it and then everything became a bit too much... and let's just skip the part with the thousand apologies and get on with the story. After all, it took me long enough.<br>For those who don't quite remember what happened: Merlin will be burned at the stake in the morning, Gaius has found the pendant Morgana used to reverse Merlin's spell (to kill Uther) and now wants to show it to Arthur and hereby save Merlin.  
>Enjoy and please R&amp;R! :)<br>**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin...**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 8: Fire<strong>

When the first rays of the rising sun turned Camelot red, the pyre was built and a huge crowd had assembled, quickly having been called together in order to make the execution a memorable one. Arthur was standing on the balcony, on the exact spot his father had stood so often, and let his gaze sweep over the crowd. Most of them were whispering, glancing nervously up at him and most likely wondering where Uther was or what all of this meant. Usually an execution was announced days before, giving them enough time to prepare.

A few days ago, Arthur would never have imagined standing here, about to kill the traitor he had believed to be his best friend. A few days ago, his father had still been alive.

The thoughts made bile rise in his throat and Arthur pushed them away, instead focusing on the entrance where Merlin would enter the court.

It didn't help. The former servant didn't carry himself in a shamed or distraught way as everyone would have imagined. Instead he walked to the pyre by himself, looking free and proud to the people around him as his gaze swept through the crowd not unlike Arthur's moments ago. Then his eyes lifted towards the balcony and the Prince quickly looked, away, focusing on the people instead and on the slow beats of the drums. _He could to this. He had to do this. For his father._

Arthur wasn't weak.

He stood a little straighter, his proud stance ressembling that of Merlin in an ironic way, even though they looked so different. Golden hair- combed and neat, a Prince couldn't appear dishevelled- in contrast with black tousled hair. Rich red robes compared to the usual blue shirt, red scarf and brown pants and jacket. Only their eyes looked very much the same- a fierce blue shining in both of them.

Arthur waited until the soldiers had reached the pyre and proceeded to climb it, binding Merlin to the pole in its middle. Even from the distance Arthur could see that Merlin shot the man binding him a small smile, making the poor guy flinch uncomfortably. Something in his chest constricted, but he willed it to loosen, continuing to wait until the guards had stepped back and stood around the pyre in case the sorcerer tried to flee.

_He didn't even seem nervous._

Taking a deep breath, Arthur took another step forward and forced himself to speak, avoiding the lone figure at the pole as he spoke to the crowd.

"Dear people of Camelot. I'm sure many of you wonder what is going on, why there is an execution that wasn't announced beforehands. Some closer to the castle might even wonder why this man, my former manservant-" _my best friend_ "-is tied to the pyre."

Murmurs rose and Arthur closed his eyes for barely a second, concentrating. It was a hard task- most of the people had liked the sorcerer and he had helped quite a lot of them- but he could do it. After all, he was the Prince of Camelot.

This was what he had been trained to do.

* * *

><p>Gaius was hurrying through the castle as fast as he could with his lungs aching and his whole body screaming for rest. He had been up till late past midnight, trying to find Arthur (the first time he had tried the Prince's chambers they had been empty, and the next time the guards wouldn't let him pass - under no circumstances). Oh, and apparently the Prince had ignored- or simply not heard- his shouts from outside. So when he had finally returned to his chambers and sat down, trying to think of a plan (<em>any<em> plan), he had fallen asleep.

Stupid age and stupid work that had made him so tired. His nephew was about to be killed and Gaius had the only prove for his innocense- how could he ever have fallen asleep?!

When he woke he first feared it was too late, seeing the beams of light that had hit his eyes and woken him. But luckily it was still shortly after sunrise and the crowd of people was assembled in the courtyard, the pyre not having been lit. Yet. Which was why Gaius was no hurrying towards the balcony to talk to the Prince, fearing any moment to hear the shouts of the crowd that would announce the pyre being lit.

They didn't come.

When the physician had reached corner before the passageway to the balcony he had to stop and catch his breath, only then proceeding more calmly towards the door. Which was of course guarded- by exactly the same guards that hadn't let him inside Arthur's chambers yesterday, because apparenlty they were too-loyal-for-their-lives bootlickers.

Gaius groaned on the inside, putting on a friendly smile even though he felt like shouting at the men to let him see the king. He had been Camelot's physician for many years and had calmed lots of panicked fiancées and argued with lots of illbred kids. He could do this.

If only it didn't take too long.

* * *

><p>"This man has sneaked into the heart of Camelot for many years, slowly gaining all our trust and confidence. But last night he finally showed his true colours when he tried to kill the King."<p>

There were shocked gasps from everywhere, people starting to whisper, wide eyes flickering between the still forms of the sorcerer and the Prince.

"As you well know, King Uther has been wounded gravely and was an admittedly easy target at the moment, which is why this man took his chance. He revealed himself to be a sorcerer-" this time Arthur simply continued talking over the shocked sounds "-and has relied on the fundament he built in Camelot to attempt a murder on the King."

Now he had to tread carefully. Arthur didn't allow himself to pause, swallowing his sorrow as he spoke on.

"The crime of magic is still punishable in Camelot. I promise you that I will protect you from all its beasts and charms. Magic comes undetected, hidden beneath friendly seeming faces. But you mustn't trust it, for it will stab you in the back as soon as you don't watch it. We can't let magic win. Sorcerers believe themselves to be allmighty and better then everyone else- but we know that they can be fought and killed! They aren't invincible, whatever they think. They can be hurt just like they have hurt you, they have hurt us so many times. This isn't just revenge- this is justice!"

Somehow Arthur felt strange, slightly lightheaded, as if he had stood up too quickly. He frowned and then decided to ignore it. After all it was most likely a sign of sleep deprive.

"Magic is evil. It is an illness and we know the cure. So let's use it!"

Now his head was really starting to throb, but he wouldn't seem weak, couldn't, not in front of his people. They needed a strong regent, especially now-

_A small village, barely more than a few houses. But there were lots of children, more than he'd have imagine the village to have._

No, he was standing on the balcony in Camelot, gazing down at the people, _his_ people-

_They were all surrounding him, their little faces angry grimaces, snarling at his face. But what was even stranger- he was smaller than them, weaker, even though they couldn't be more than ten years old. One of the older boys stepped forward and lifted his fist, smirking as he held his fingers- so fragile and pale now- in front of his face, to protect himself..._

_"You don't belong here. Monster."_

Arthur stumbled and had to grasp the reiling of the balcony. The people whispered and a few shocked shouts could be heard, but Arthur didn't notice him. Instead his eyes were searching the crowd, searching where this scenes came from- until they hit Merlin's blue eyes.

_A pair of piercing blue eyes was looking right at him and he felt nervous, remembering they kids in the village with their angry words and fists- but this man didn't know, and he was stronger now. He could protect himself. Unlike the other boy._

_"Hey, come on, that's enough."_

_The blond man frowned, obviously not used to someone arguing with him, and he had to work hard to keep his breathing even._

_"You've had your fun, my friend."_

_"Do I know you?"_

_He forced himself to smile, stretching his hand out even if he didn't feel like it. "Er, I'm Merlin."_

_The man didn't react to the hand being offered. "So I don't know you."_

_"No."_

_"Yet you called me a friend."_

_The blond drew the last word out, smirking slightly at the idea. His friends laughed and bumped each others shoulders._

_"That was my mistake," he answered and the other's smirk grew, confident with his power. It made his blood boil. Who did he think he was?! "I could never have a friend who could be such an ass."_

_"Or I one who could be so stupid," the prat said easily, stopping him when he had already started to walk away._

_An hour later he was sitting in the dungeons for insulting the Prince of Camelot._

It was impossible. There was literally no way. Merlin was wearing a gag, he couldn't talk, couldn't say any spells- he couldn't use magic! Because why else would he still be here?

But nonetheless, Arthur had just watched their first meeting. And from Merlin's point of view. So either he was going mad or the sorcerer had found a way to use magic without spells. Either way, there was an easy solution.

The Prince lifted his hand, straightening himself once again. Immediately, the crowd fell silent. "Magic users will pay for what have done. We will cure the land from its plague!"

With those words, he let his arm fall, signalling the guard with the torch to light the pyre.

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><p>Gaius was still standing in front of the guards, the pendant firmly in his hands, when he heard the shouts. His heart almost stopped, sending his ming in a series of <em>'Nonononono'<em>. They had lit the pyre. Merlin was burning. And of course the idiot wouldn't do anything to save himself, leaving that to the old man. The physician grit his teeth.

"I have to talk to the Prince _right now_."

The guards looked slightly bored. "As you've said before. But, like _I_ said before, that's not possible right now. He's doing some really important business, ya know?"

Gaius had to suppress the urge to cry out in frustration, instead thinking hard, until something crossed his mind.

His plan was simple, but it had worked before. It would work again.

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><p><strong>That's it for now... hope you liked it. I'll try to update soon- and the next part should be the final chapter to this story. Of course I always love getting reviews *hint hint* ;).<strong>


	11. Chapter 9: Memories

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone:)  
>I promised the next update would be sooner, didn't I? Well, here it is... *drum roll* the last chapter.<br>Thanks to mersan123 for reviewing, as well as to everyone who is still reading this, despite my huge delay :P.  
>Enjoy and please R&amp;R! :)<br>**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 9: Memories<strong>

Arthur stared at the flames, not daring to look the sorcerer in the eye as the fire rose agonizingly slowly. Did it always take that long? The Prince knew that most people suffocated before burning, but there wasn't really all that much smoke- he could see the dark-haired way too clearly and feel his gaze like a hot poker on his forehead. And he was still feeling slightly nauseated, even though he stood still and straight to appear strong in front of everyone else.

This time he could tell right before the next memory hit him, a small wave of dizziness announcing it.

_He was watching Arthur from above as the Prince struggled to climb the wall of the cave, spiders following and soon catching up with him. He felt strange- feverish and not quite there, as if he should be somewhere else right now. But at the same time he knew that this was the only place that made sense; to protect his Prince whenever he was in danger. Even if the prat would never thank him._

_A small spark of amusement broke through the feverish haze, but was quickly drowned again as the spiders began to surround Arthur, the Prince stuck on the wall. _

_His magic reacted almost by itself, creating a glowing blue orb that floated right above Arthur's head and guided him to safety._

Arthur couldn't stop his eyes from widening, his breath coming in short gasps. He could remember that particular incident, even if it had been from another point of view. Merlin had been poisoned and nearly dying while he had searched the cure.

_And still he has been watching over me._

He pushed the thought away. The flames had now reached Merlin's feet, but the sorcerer didn't move. Arthur looked more closely, then he frowned. The fire didn't quite seem to reach the sorcerer's feet, just flickering around them. What was going o-

_He was in the throne room, a woman he recognized as Lady Helen, the famous singer, slowly walking towards the King and Prince Prat. Everyone else seemed to be asleep and he was covering his ears, not understanding what was going on. Spiderwebs had spread on the table and between the heads of all of Camelot's rich and famous- it would have been funny, if it wasn't so strange. Then the Lady drew a throwing knife, aiming it towards the Prince, and suddenly everything became clear. His magic reacted on his merest wish, letting the chandelier crash down when the witch was beneath it. _

_She fell down, her song cut abruptly, and he could barely hide his relief when everyone began to wake again. The people were murmuring and staring at the beautiful singer that had turned into an old woman now- the sorcerer's mother. His pity for her only lasted until she made one last effort as she lifted the dagger again, throwing it at the Prince. And she must have had an excellent aim, for the dagger would have hit Arthur straight in the heart- if he hadn't run and pushed him out of the way. When the King rewarded him with being the Prat's manservant, the dragon's words crossed his mind again: 'You cannot escape your destiny, young warlock.'_

_"You cannot escape your destiny." _It reminded Arthur of another talk he and Merlin had had long ago, when he had to decide whether or not to marry Princess Elena.

_"What's wrong?" _

_The question sounded so innocent. Sometimes Arthur really wondered how sheltered Merlin had grown up. "You wouldn't understand Merlin," he answered with a small sigh. "You have no idea what it's like to have a destiny you can't escape." _

_To his surprise, the servant continued to speak. "Destinies are troublesome things. You feel trapped, like your whole life is being planned out for you and you've got no control over anything and sometimes you don't even know if what destiny has decided is really the best thing at all." The boy stared at the air, seeming far away, a wistful smile on his face. _

_"How come you're so knowledgeable?" _

_Merlin's surprised look, as if he had just been woken from a dream. "Me? I read a book." _

The lie had been tangible, but he had let it slip, too occupied with his own worries. Still- and unlike most others- he had never believed his manservant to be an open book. If Merlin was an open book, it was written in the strangest language Arthur had ever seen. He just hadn't quite realized, how deep the man's betrayal reached.

_"You would be a friend for life if you do." _

The sentence, spoken in his own voice, surprised him so that Arthur almost jumped, stopping himself in the last moment. Then he frowned. When had he said that?

_"All right,"_ Merlin's voice answered, the smile obvious in his tone, and the Prince had to restrain himself from turning and searching its owner. He could see the sorcerer clearly enough on the pyre, the flames a wall around him- still not quite touching him- and his face a grimace of concentration. He looked exhausted. Maybe that was why there was no picture this time. Keeping the flames away as inconspicuously as possible while sending memories to a non-sorcerer must be difficult. Merlin had called himself powerful- and he didn't look like he could keep it up much longer.

Arthur told himself that it was good this way, that he had to feel glad. After all the sorcerer was standing on the pyre to burn. Not to exchange old memories.

_"Alright. I came back because you're my only friend and I couldn't bear to lose you." _

_"Take this. It was my mother's seal- you might find it useful when you get lost next time and need to prove to someone that you are my servant." _

_"Shut up." _

_"Idiot."_

The fragments were becoming faster, more frantic, but all of them- even the last two- were accompanied by an unmistakable feeling of happiness. It made Arthur stare down at the railing, avoiding to watch the sorcerer squirm. Those feelings didn't feel fake, like a lie. They felt _real_.

_"You are living a lie, Merlin. Face it." _

It took Arthur a moment to recognize the voice of Merlin's friend, Will. The sorcerer. In hindsight, he had most likely protected Merlin by taking the blame.

_"No. He's my friend." _

A sharp feeling in his chest that he tried himself to convince was Merlin's. Then a wave of desperation hit him, accompanied by a picture of Morgana with her sword pointed at him and the sounds of a battle nearby. Arthur instinctively knew which battle it was. The skeletons had fought almost soundlessly. There was a staff in the background, its tip glowing blue.

_"We can find another way."_

Merlin's voice was pleading, but Arthur didn't understand what was going on. Morgana had saved them from the skeletons. Had Merlin attacked her? But then, why would he show it now?

_"There is no other way." _

Morgana sounded much like when she had told him that she had grown up and suddenly Arthur noticed how she was standing with her back to the staff, protecting it. His heart skipped a beat, but there was no time for real sorrow as the next scene came up.

_"There is something you should know about the last dragonlord. Balinor is your father."_ Gaius voice, followed quickly by confusion, anger and fear.

_"Son."_ The word sounded unsure, but Arthur could tell that it had filled Merlin with joy- and then sorrow, as Balinor died in his arms.

_"No man is worth your tears."_ Arthur's eyes widened and he couldn't stop himself from looking down to the pyre. Merlin looked right back, even though his eyes seemed slightly glazed over. His father. Balinor had been the father he had just found, the man he had missed so desperately, and Arthur had told him that it "wasn't worth his tears". The Prince tried to imagine the same situation with himself and Igraine and shuddered.

Merlin must hate him.

_Why__ have you never told me?_ he asked silently, despite being pretty sure that Merlin couldn't read his thoughts. Still, the warlock must have guessed his thoughts, the next memory answering them perfectly.

_"Sorcery is pure evil. I will never doubt that again."_

Sorrow and the feeling of having failed, having lost a close friend hit him, even though he could remember Merlin's smile as he answered. _"Glad I could help."_ Not a good liar? The sorcerer must be one of the best. It was to be expected, after he had lived in Camelot for so long without anyone noticing.

Arthur watched Merlin's face closely. He was sweating now, the flames reaching as high as his chest. Suddenly his eyes squeezed shut and Merlin's face scrunched up. The next moment there was not a film, but a series of pictures and tones, only slowly turning to edible words.

_"The Questing Beast's bite is deadly poisonous. There is no cure for it." _

Gaius was sitting at a table, looking broken as he spoke those words, and the pain and sorrow and _anger_ that shot through him almost made him flinch, before Arthur realized that those were Merlin's feelings again. They were stronger than anything he had felt before.

_"It is not that simple! The High Priests have the power to mirror life and death, but there will be a price to pay. They will demand a life in return. Merlin, please, I beg of you."_

But Arthur could feel clearly that Merlin had already had a plan then, a plan he would carry out no matter the cost. The decision had been met. And that was what ge told Gaius. _"I'm sorry, Gaius. Whatever the price is, I will pay it gladly."_

Arthur hold his breath. The sorcerer had been willing to sacrifice another life for his. The Prince didn't know whether he should feel honoured and astonished or simply affronted. He wouldn't want anyone to die for him, especially not peasants. At least his knights had chosen their way of living. These thoughts were flashing through his mind when the next scene appeared and stole his breath.

_He__ was standing in front of Nimueh on the Isle of Blessed. He didn't feel safe at the thought of letting __ who had tried to kill both Arthur and himself decide over Life and Death, but she was his only chance. So he took a deep breath, forcing himself to hide his nervousness. "I willingly give my life for Arthur's."_

He had been willing to die so Arthur could live. The Prince stood frozen on the balcony. He should have known that Merlin would never risk someone else. He would rather die himself. How had he survived? The thought piqued another memory, something involving lots of yelling, a prophecy and a _dragon_, which told Arthur immediately that it couldn't be one of his own, but he ignored it, trying to find more about the incident with the Questing Beast.

Merlin was leaning against the pole, looking as if he had gone a month without sleep, but he was still keeping the flames relatively at bay- they had risen to his throat and were licking across skin every now and then. Arthur could hear the pained gasps - but he was still alive.

In the memory, Arthur could vaguely see how the witch made it rain, telling him to get some of the water and give it to Arthur. When the Prince had woken from the poison everyone had thought deadly, they had congratulated Gaius. No one had even noticed how quiet the physician and the servant had been that evening. Arthur had only wondered when Merlin had come into his chambers later that evening, giving him a small speech. At first he had thought the boy wanted to quit his job and was saying good-bye. He should have known better. Merlin had been saying good-bye because he had believed he would die during the night- a life for a life. Without hesitation.

_"His life is worth a hundred of mine."_

What had he done to deserve such loyalty? Arthur could remember his own words to his father after he had woken up- "I think there's someone watching over me, keeping me from harm." He would never have imagined clumsy, idiotic, naïve, sometimes wise, loyal, brave Merlin to be the 'guardian angel'- protecting him from the Shadows with the thing he hated most.

_"I'm happy to be your servant till the day I die." _

How could he ever have forgotten? Merlin was his best friend, magic or no magic. And maybe there was an explanation for Uther's death, if he had just listened to Merlin instead of gagging him and sentencing him.

...sentencing him. Suddenly it hit Arthur like lightning striking a tree.

_Oh my God, I'm burning my best friend. _And not just his. Gwen would never forgive him, let alone Gwaine and the other knights. He was just losing his best friend, his future wife and half of his knights in one stupid act of revenge- leaving Camelot more vulnerable than ever if what Merlin said about protecting him was true. He didn't doubt it.

Arthur's stomach churned. He was _killing his friend_. Even worse, he was burning Merlin _alive_, which was one of the most gruesome deaths he himself could imagine- a bitter reward for years of absolute loyalty. For _friendship_. The Prince felt his face turn pale, his knees almost buckling as his heart skipped a few beats.

Suddenly everything happened very quickly. Merlin stiffened, his eyes wide and unfocused. _"Good-bye, Arthur. I'm sorry." _

Somehow Arthur knew it hadn't been a memory, even before Merlin slumped. The fire roared, finally truly coming to life now that the sorcerer who had tamed it was unconscious. Behind the Prince the door opened, showing the flustered court physician with a pendant in his hands, spouting illegible words. "It wasn't Merlin's fault, I can prove it. He wanted to help, but someone else- most likely Morgana- has put this-"

Then he followed Arthur's gaze, suddenly turning white as a sheet of paper, before collapsing. Arthur stood, unable to move, as the fire closed in on his best friend. His scream turned into a whispered "No..."

And the flames closed above Merlin's head.

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><p><strong>Bit of a dark ending, I know... well, at least Arthur realized his mistake, even if it was too late. I hope it wasn't too out of character (for this storyline, anway).<strong>

**!Important!  
><strong>**I think I've mentioned it before, but in case someone forgot: This is not the final ending! There will be another part to this story, called Burning Tears: One more Turn. I've already started writing it, but I want to finish at least one other fanfic before posting, so I don't have too many unfinished fics out there at once. But don't worry, I _will_ post it eventually.  
>When I do, I'll add a short note to this story, so that everyone who is following it will notice. Hope you don't mind the wait too much.<br>**

**I hope you liked it- if you did, please review! (And if you didn't, tell me what to improve ;).) **


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